Prisoner of War

AN: Words in italic is a past memory.


Chapter 2


Three years later....


Ichigo sat looking at his reflection in the mirror. He wanted to break the glass, but knew he'd only get tougher punishment if he did. Angering Aizen was not a wise thing. It was a lesson he learned more often than not, but he knew he would always test the man he was forced to call Master. Every night he slept and dreamed of killing the bastard. Three years had slowly gone by, and it still remained just a dream, but he couldn't give up the hope that it would someday be realized.

He was older now, muscles a bit thicker from the exercise that Aizen allowed him. He was fed well, given a nice room, and able to walk around the palace with little interference. Yet, he wasn't truly free. Not here. Not ever. He touched the welted scar on his chest with disdain; Aizen's claim to him as he put it. It was the kanji symbol for slave. The mark was a sign of his ownership as much as the collar around his neck that dulled his reiatsu.

Ichigo frowned when he felt the familiar presence near the door, and watched in the reflection when Gin stepped inside. He looked amused as he usually did when he was forced to set eyes on him. Just another traitor of Soul Society as far as Ichigo was concerned. He stood with his back against the door and smirked, meeting Ichigo's eyes in the mirror.

"Well, well, the pet obeys."

"Eat shit," Ichigo muttered and narrowed his eyes.

"My, the mouth on you. Good thing Aizen puts it to good use, yes?"

Ichigo lost his challenging look and stared back straight ahead to avoid direct eye contact. This was just one of the many random orders Aizen gave him. He was told to stare in the mirror since he'd left a few hours before, and that if he looked away, he'd know. Ichigo was sure it was all a mind game, but he did the ridiculous to just make life easier. Gin was apparently checking in on him, on his Master's behalf.

"Go."

"Don't even attempt to order me, child." Gin neared, and Ichigo's hands curled on his lap, and again he met his eyes in the reflection.

"What do you want?"

"Several things, and Aizen is usually gracious, but not with my last request unfortunately." Ichigo remained silent, and waited for him to continue. "Orihime has only grown more attractive over these years. So desirable. I wanted to deflower her, but.."

"Don't touch her!"

Gin laughed, hands slipping over Ichigo's bare shoulders. "So much tension. Relax, I told you Aizen said no. He said she was much too fragile to be taken. She is still too useful to us with her power." He massaged Ichigo's shoulders absently. The young man only stiffened up more under his touch. "She is also your healer, is she not? I know how rough Aizen gets with you sometimes. How does it feel to have to look at her when she heals your ravaged body, hm? How do you think she sees you now?"

"Shut up," he whispered. His nerves were on fire, he fought with pure will alone not to jump from his chair and attack him, but it would end all too soon in his helpless condition.

After the war, the first time he saw Orihime followed his first session with Aizen. He had awoken on a bed, and she was the first thing he had seen. She looked stricken, scared, but worst of all he saw pity in her eyes and no shine of hope like she used to.

"He won't let me reject the mark he gave you," she whispered.

"Orihime, are you okay? Have they hurt you?" he croaked out. His throat felt like sandpaper. Quietly she poured him a glass of water and gently tilted his head up to drink. He drank slow until she let him lay his head back again. "Orihime?"

"I'm okay." She set the glass aside and took up a tube of salve.

"What about the others?" He looked down at the burn and saw the symbol. His cheeks burned with shame and he turned his face away from her against the pillow under his head.

"I think...I've only seen Uryu since the..end. I think everyone else is dead," she said thickly, close to tears. She spread the cool salve over the burn with care.

"I'm sorry," his own voice wavered. "I failed you all."

"Ichigo, we all did. You can't blame yourself."

"Of course I can. I was told I was the only one that could beat him, and I lost miserably. I let down my family, my friends, Soul Society, and the entire fucking world!" He felt her fingers flinch, and he regretted yelling. He didn't want to hurt her more than he already had with his inabilities. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, and looked back to her.

Her eyes were wet, but she looked unafraid. "I love you."

Ichigo thought he misheard her for a moment. "What?" His lips parted and they felt numb. She laughed without humor and sniffed soft, wiping at a her wet eyes with the back of her hand that wasn't covered with salve. "Orihime."

"I love you," she whispered this time, but he heard her clearly. "I have for a while now." She shook her head sadly. "I was stupid not to tell you a long time ago. I was stupid to go with Ulquiorra when he came for me, but I thought it was my only option. Now look what all my thoughtless actions have done."

"Orihime, none of this is your fault." He took up her trembling hand, ignoring the salve that spread on his own fingers from her skin.

"Why do I feel like it is then?"

"Take a number," he said, rubbing his fingers against hers.

"Ichigo."

"Yeah?" He looked back to her with some reluctance. He hated seeing her so lost.

"What happens now?"

He couldn't lie to her. "Nothing good. Not for a long while, I think." Her face fell a fraction more, but she nodded that she understood. "I'd like to say I love you back." She nibbled her bottom lip. "But I'm dirty now, Orihime."

"Ichigo."

"You have to know what Aizen did to me, don't you? What he's going to keep doing to me."

Her lips trembled. "I know."

"I know I've made promises that I haven't kept, and more will only sound like a hopeless whim." He took her hand tighter in his own. "I'll just say that I'm going to try to end him."

"Okay." She smiled sadly.

"I'll go through everything I have to. Just knowing you're not touched will get me through it all." She crumbled again as fresh tears spilled over. Ignoring his sore muscles, he gently tugged her down to hold her, running a hand through her soft hair.

Ichigo knew Gin was goading him on purpose, but knowing didn't ease the jab. He gripped the table to keep from moving Gin's hands off his shoulders. Doing so would only cause more trouble, but it would almost be worth it to push him away.

"Ah, I can see that anger of yours flaring up." Gin squeezed tighter on his shoulders until Ichigo felt the first signs of pain start. He bit back a curse and took a slow breath, gaze glued to the amused eyes reflected in the mirror. "Come on, turn around and take a shot at me, boy. You know you want to," he taunted, digging his fingers in.

"I'll kill you!" Ichigo felt his reiatsu built brighter within him, the barrier his collar created waned in response and he gasped. Never had he felt the barrier weaken since the humiliating metal had been forced upon him.

Gin raised an eyebrow. "It's true then."

"What?!" Ichigo's hair ruffled from the force of the energy coming off him.

"Hold him, Gin!" Aizen yelled, quickly stepping into the room.

"No!" Forgoing his orders, Ichigo turned his head to see a new collar in his hands. It was also metal, but jet black in color, making the object look even more ominous. "Bastards!" Even as he tried to get up and fight off the inevitable, he realized he'd been set up for a test. Gin pinned his arms and threw him to the floor with frightening ease, knee digging into his back to keep him immobile.

"Temper, Ichigo," Aizen said, shushing his yells as he snapped and locked the new collar in place.

"Damn you!" He felt his reiatsu dull and go dormant, the dreaded choker doing it's work. The other was removed, the weak barrier no longer needed. He yelled until his voice cracked under the strain, held down in his prone position by Gin who was smiling like it was his birthday, and the screaming young man was his present.

"Well, I'm pleased with Kurotsuchi's work. Again he has made something of excellent use."

Ichigo's breath was harsh as he lay face first against the floor. Spent from the struggles and yelling until he couldn't anymore, he silently cursed that name. Mayuri Kurotsuchi. Shinigami. Captain of the 12th Division. Mad scientist. Traitor. Pulled by the lure of complete freedom for his experiments, and the promise of having the Quincy to keep as his own brought Kurotsuchi to their side long before the war was even over. He had secretly been relaying information to Aizen the entire time, and no one had been the wiser.

"Get off me," he finally managed, struggling to breathe with Gin's weight against his back.

"It's alright, Gin. He's lost his fight for today," Aizen said with a husky chuckle. The sound of it made him grind his teeth and his body shiver involuntarily. His laughter spoke volumes, even without words. Once Gin left, it was playtime for Aizen.

"Then I will leave you with your naughty pet." Gin stood and went out the door, laughing down the hall until his voice faded along with his presence.

Ichigo stayed down, mindful that doing otherwise would be a terrible mistake. He placed his hands flat to the floor, but otherwise stayed still as Aizen took the seat he'd been sitting on only minutes before. One of Aizen's booted feet rested on Ichigo's back and he closed his eyes to wait for it to start. For a while Aizen said nothing, thick silence pressing down on him along with his Master's foot.

"Tell me the truth, Ichigo. What do you dream about?"

Ichigo blinked in confusion. "What?" Aizen's boot heel dug into his lower back. His face twisted in pain and he gasped against the floor, fighting not to cry out. "I..don't understand..what..you want.."

"Answer my question, that's all." He sounded bored with the interrogation, but Ichigo knew he was enjoying himself. Over the years he had learned his captor's quirks, every one of them bad. His heel dug in more and his spine cried out in protest, and he cried out with it. "I'm waiting."

"Killing you!" Ichigo growled out with the pain, nails digging into the floor. The agonizing pressure ceased, and he panted, thumping his forehead soft against the floor to cool his brow.

"I thought that must be it, or something similar enough," Aizen continued softly, removing his foot altogether. "The past three months I've noticed your reiatsu would heighten considerably when you were sleeping. It was so much, that I was sure you'd break the hold your collar had, hence why I went to Kurotsuchi for a more powerful block."

"What was the point of all the theatrics then? You could have just slipped the collar on me while I slept," Ichigo whispered. The reveal came as a blow. If he had been aware of the reiatsu, maybe he could have controlled and honed it for an escape attempt and a chance to fulfill his promise.

"It was more entertaining this way. I know how Gin gets under your skin with his mere presence." Ichigo closed his eyes. "You are so easy to rattle. I just snap my fingers and I can get a reaction from you."

"Shut up."

"See. You're laying there obediently like a dog, yet you still try to mouth off. It fascinates me, Ichigo; your strength of will. Three years and I still have not completely broken you." He looked down at his still and prone body with a soft smirk. "Perhaps I should let Gin take Orihime after all."

"No!" Ichigo broke his submissive position and turned his head to glare up at the man he hated more than any other.

Aizen smiled. "No, that would break you to pieces, knowing she was tortured in such a way. No, Ichigo, I will not give her over to that. Your strong will is too alluring for me to lose." Ichigo relaxed slightly, but kept watching him with unease. "Well, you ignored my orders and looked away from the mirror. You know what it is you have to do. Get to it."

"But Gin.."

"Was doing his job, and you crumbled miserably."

Ichigo frowned deeply. "You set me up."

"Of course I did." He sat more comfortably on the chair. "I'm your Master. Now appease me, Ichigo."

Ichigo thought to refuse, but in the end he would always comply, one way or the other, and after what he said about Orihime, he wouldn't risk it. He pushed himself up and got on his knees and slid over to Aizen. The ache in his back was barely a whisper now, so he was able to move more relaxed for what he was about to do.

"I apologize, Master," he said, his voice full of respect. Inside he burned with the familiar humiliation that coiled like a snake. Steady hands unfastened Aizen's pants and he pulled his cock free. Without hesitating, he lowered his head and licked over his semi hard length, taking the head in his mouth. The flesh hardened quickly against his tongue as his mouth worked. He moved his eyes up to watch Aizen. His lips were slightly parted and his breath was a fraction faster, but he he made no sound of approval. The lust in his eyes was enough, and Ichigo rolled his tongue around the slit, then sucked down to the base, lips tight to his shaft. He'd had plenty of practice on how to pleasure him after all this time.

"Mm, you're going right for the throat today," Aizen chuckled, letting a soft moan slip. "Don't stop."

Ichigo blinked at him, and swallowed around the organ. Mouth stretched wide, he sucked up and down over his arousal, from base to tip then back again. He shocked himself with how easy a job this had become to him. In the beginning, he had always fought, disgusted to have a man's most private part thrust into his mouth. Now, it was just part of life. The reaction of his own body had also changed with time. Before, he'd remain soft until Aizen manually brought his flesh to life. Now his loins would grow hard against his loose fitting pants, as if knowing it was expected, and it was.

"You've become so good, like it's second nature to you," Aizen panted, gripping Ichigo's hair to start thrusting.

Ichigo blinked at him again, his only way of communication while his mouth was full. He swallowed around him as he thrust, jaw beginning to ache, but he could ignore that well enough. He could taste the salty essence of his pre-cum at the back of his throat, and his rising moans signaled his nearing climax.

"Swallow every drop," Aizen warned, eyes going cool through the lust as he carelessly thrust into his mouth.

"Mn." Ichigo felt saliva dripping down his chin and he swallowed around Aizen, waiting for the thick spray of his seed to hit the back of his throat. The grip on his hair was painful, but he endured, slamming his mouth up and down with the rhythm of his increasing thrusts. The chair beneath him creaked and sang with his shifting movement, then he heard his moan change from need to satisfaction just as the heat of his climax filled his mouth. That was the one part he still struggled with and he gagged in reflex, but kept his mouth in place. If he missed any, he could never guess what the punishment would be. He closed his eyes tight and swallowed the thick salty substance, face burning as he fought to get the job done without fail.

"All of it," Aizen pressed again, holding Ichigo in place with rough hands. Ichigo swallowed thickly and shivered as he took the last traces of his essence over his tongue and down his throat. Aizen's hands softened in his hair a moment before he set him free. Ichigo pulled off his softening organ, taking in a breath and wiping his chin quickly with the back of his hand. He chose to ignore the arousal that had his pants tented, his eyes downcast as he sat in silence. Aizen leaned over and traced his fingers over the taunt cloth against the throbbing muscle.

"Don't," Ichigo whispered with a shiver, ripples of pleasure flowing through his groin.

"Don't. No. Stop. Ichigo, by now you know those words will never work," he purred, using the palm of his hand to rub and entice his aroused cock. "Now be a good boy, and take those bothersome pants off."

"Ahn." Another shiver shook him to his core when Aizen gave his hard package a soft squeeze.

"Yes, Master," he growled, showing little to no respect this time, but Aizen only chuckled and sat back to watch. He put his fingers to the waistband and tugged, lifting his ass off the floor to slide them down.

"Better," Aizen said, grabbing the pants and tossing them away. Ichigo shivered. The floor wasn't exactly warm to the skin, or very comfortable, but Aizen had not given him permission to rise, so he sat there indigently. "You look scandalized, Ichigo." He laughed soft. "Play for Master, and I'll let you get up."

Ichigo closed his eyes. "Yes, Master." His hand slid around his arousal and he stroked softly, but stopped when Aizen grabbed his wrist. "Isn't this what you want?" He looked at Aizen with annoyance.

"The other way this time."

Ichigo sighed and removed his hand from his member. "Yes, Master." He opened his mouth and sucked in two of his fingers to slick up. Aizen knew how much he hated to finger himself, as if getting himself of in front of him wasn't bad enough.

"And no hiding away by closing your eyes. Look at me while you do it."

"I hate you." Aizen smirked at that and sat back to watch, his own cock still free and already hardening again. Ichigo looked at him as ordered and spread his legs wide, shifting to get as comfortable as he could. He bit his lip and pressed around his opening, circling his fingertips around his anus to smear around saliva for as much lube as possible. His forefinger pressed against the resistance, then slide into the surrounding heat of his body. It still felt foreign to him, even after doing this to himself hundreds of times for Aizen's amusement.

"Good start," Aizen praised softly, looking into his eyes.

Ichigo didn't respond other than his finger pushing in deeper, thrusting it to start stretching for the other finger to join it. Humiliating as it was, it did have it's pleasure. At least it wasn't Aizen's rough digits slamming in him without care as he'd done on many occasions. Taking a breath, he pulled his forefinger out, then pushed back in with his middle finger. His breath came faster.

"Now you're getting into it more. Good."

"No." His fingers worked deep until he felt the round presence of his prostate. He groaned, legs spreading more as he pressed.

"Don't make yourself come fast like last time, unless you want to be tied down for hours again, Ichigo."

"Fuck." He let off with the pressure and thrust his fingers slower, eyes cold on Aizen. Getting this done quickly was now not an option.

"Better."

"Ah." His cock jerked for attention, but Aizen would punish him more if he tried to relive it with the slightest stroke. To help, he concentrated on his hate, slowly scissoring his fingers inside his snug tunnel.

"Give me a really exceptional show, and I'll let you visit your Quincy friend again. I do think the boy may need a break from Kurotsuchi." Aizen laughed soft.

"Bastard," Ichigo hissed, laying back more against the cold floor, eyes locked to his Master's. He lifted his knees, spread out for Aizen's viewing, fingers stroking with more ease. Ichigo worked his hips along with them, fucking his scissoring digits sensually. Aizen's eyes concentrated more on what his fingers were doing, but still, Ichigo didn't look away from him. He used his thumb to rub the underside of his balls, nail scraping softly to tease himself.

His body was opening up more the longer he worked himself, and the floor that had felt cold was now slick against his back from the light sweat that was building on his skin. Pre-cum pearled at his slit. Aizen smirked at the sight, knowing Ichigo was close to letting go. Ichigo groaned, slipping an arm around his left leg to lift against his chest, fingers going deep and quicker in his ass. His fingertips tickled over his sweet spot and he shuddered, panting for an orgasm.

"You want to come?"

"Y..yes.."

"Put another finger inside." Aizen licked his lips, eyes commanding.

"Dammit," Ichigo whimpered, pulling them out then shoving in with three. He shivered and groaned, eyes half lidded on Aizen. His body welcomed the intrusion, hugging tighter. His thighs trembled, his muscles tightened, his cock jerked, dripping clear pre-cum more freely onto his stomach. "Please!"

"Tell me you want me," Aizen said coldly.

"What?" He shuddered, on the brink.

"Did I stutter, Ichigo? Tell me you want me. Tell me you want to feel me thrusting inside you, and you may climax."

"No!"

"That word again?" Aizen raised an eyebrow.

"No," he whispered and swallowed, fingers still rolling and working closer to release.

"One day, I will rip that word from your mind." He was too fast for Ichigo to react, and Aizen was above his body before he could even blink. Hard fingers dug into his wrist and yanked his fingers free. He was pinned in seconds, squirming helpless under his power. "You are mine," Aizen hissed, nose touching his, eyes like the sharpest daggers. "Know it, feel it, be it!"

"Just kill me!" Ichigo yelled back venomously. "If you don't, I will kill you!"

"That is a impossible long shot I'm afraid." Aizen laughed and pushed hard into his prepared entrance.

"Ah!" Pain and pleasure invaded his body, fighting it and welcoming it at once. Still on the verge of orgasm, he couldn't help but rock up and work to his violent pounding, yelling out with each push that delved deep inside him. He threw his head back against the cruel floor, crying out as he spent between their bodies.

"Who do you belong to, Ichigo? Say it," Aizen ordered, breathing heavy as he kept claiming his writhing body.

"I belong to you, Aizen! You son of a bitch! You!"

Aizen grinned like a demon and kept taking him, working Ichigo between agony and euphoria late into the night. Though, in Hueco Mundo, even day felt like night. Bland, barren, and without hope. That was Ichigo's last thought before he blacked out from exhaustion. feeling the last traces of a possessive kiss upon his lips.